


Southern Crossed

by Darknightjess (orphan_account), jay_linden



Series: Better Than Any High [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Darknightjess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_linden/pseuds/jay_linden





	1. Chapter 1

Craig watched the plastic smiles of the flight attendant, he stood as the seatbelt light was off and reached to grab his bag out of the overhead. When the bleached blonde told him she hoped he had enjoyed his trip, Craig resisted the urge to snarl. All he wanted was to go home, and drink. He exited the plane and walked toward customs.

After what seemed like forever, he was finally cleared through. Dragging his bags and shuffling, he walked toward the exit, head hung down.

David stood up and smiled as he saw Craig coming... and then walk right past him. "Craig," he called after him, walking a little bit faster to catch up as he realized he hadn't heard him. "Craig! PARKER!"

Craig stopped and turned, a distracted frown on his face. "David. Hey. Thanks for coming to get me." He smiled, a thin smile and shouldered one bag and pulled at another.

"No problem at all. Let me take a few of those," David said, taking the suitcase out of Craig's hand without waiting for him to approve it, and slinging his carry-on over his shoulder. "Flight all right?"

"Best thing about my trip." Craig said with a sharp laugh and then cut his eyes at David. "That tell you anything?"

"Best part of which trip... the part where you were in LA, or the part where you up and flew to Spain," David said, leading the way out to the car.

"Both? And damn if it wasn't all my fault." Craig stopped as David opened the trunk. They piled his bags inside and he got into the front seat. "I need a drink or three." He mumbled.

"Your place? Or mine... somehow after all that time away, I'm doubting that you have anything worth eating," David said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

"Yeah. Thanks mate." Craig said and stared out of the window. After a few miles he said, "David, have I always been an arsehole?"

Surprised at the question, David turned to look at Craig in surprise, quickly looking back at the road. "What?"

"Nothing. Feeling stupid and sorry for myself." He watched the scenery a few minutes. "Fucking Orlando." He mumbled.

_Not for quite some time, Craig. More than long enough to get over it. Clearly you haven't._ David thought, ignoring Craig's murmuring for the moment. "You hungry? We can stop and pick something up, or I could make sandwiches back at my place."

"Sandwiches are fine. I'm not really hungry. I just want a drink." He turned and smiled at his friend. "Damn it's great to see you. Feels like it's been a long time. Good to be home."

"It has been a long time," David agreed, nodding his head. "So... how long are you home for this time?" _Before you go off chasing Karl, or Dom, or anyone else that Orlando fucked that wasn't you. Well, almost anyone._

"A while. I've got a few things I'm going to do local. I probably won't be going to LA for a while; so-" He shrugged. "How about you?"

"I'm back and forth between here and Australia lately. We'll see how it goes. I'm glad I kept the house there though." _Did things go that badly in LA? What the hell did you do?_ David managed not to sigh out loud.

They rode the rest of the way in relative silence. Later Craig dressed after his shower and stuffed his travel wrinkled clothes in a side compartment of his luggage. He sighed, stretching and walked into the kitchen, to where David was putting some lunch together. "Thanks for the use of the shower. I feel much better." He said and sat down at the table, stretching his legs out.

"I bet you do," David said sympathetically. "Spain to New Zealand is shorter than LA to New Zealand, but it's still a hell of a flight," he said, placing a plateful of sandwiches in front of Craig. "Water? Juice? Grain alcohol?"

"All three, punchbowl and straw?"

"Water and a beer?"

"Sure, thanks." Craig said and smiled.

David poured a glass of each for both of them and joined Craig at the table, stealing a sandwich off the top of his pile. "So... didn't expect you back so soon."

"Yeah, I thought it'd take more time to totally fuck up also. You should have seen it David. I made a spectacular arse of myself - on two continents."

David took another bite of his sandwich, his face revealing nothing. "You want to talk about it?"

"I left Viggo in LA for Marton in Spain, who didn't want me - _Like that_. His words." Craig said and huffed out a laugh.

"I'm sorry," David said, his voice quiet and sincere. "Have you talked to either of them since?"

"About what? If I never see any of them again-" He trailed off, rubbing his palm over his face. "Orlando is going to convince Marton that he loves him and Marton is going to fall for it." He finished in a soft voice.

This time David wasn't able to hold back the sigh. "You don't think Marton's smarter than that? It's been a long time."

"I - he - fucking hell - we all fell for it once David!" Craig said adamantly.

"It wasn't love. I may have thought it was more than it was, but it was never love," David corrected.

"I just don't want Orlando to hurt Marton."

"I know," David said. "Tell me what happened. Not what you think is going to happen, or you're worried will happen- tell me what happened," he said, taking a sip of his beer and waiting for Craig to keep going.

"Orlando called LA to talk to Viggo about Marton. I left Viggo and flew to Spain and made a - oh god - a truly bad pass at Marton and he said no and here I am." Craig said and took a sip of his beer.

"I thought things were going well with Viggo... you seemed happy last time I talked to you. What made you go to Spain?"

Craig huffed out a breath and laughed. "I have a hundred answers to that, and I have no answer to that." He stood up and paced around the kitchen. "Dammit, I wish I knew the real answer to that."

"You don't love Viggo," David said, rather than asked.

"No, not like that. I thought I could, but-" He trailed off and stared out of the window.

"You don't love Marton," David kept going, his voice even softer this time.

"No, I wanted to, but no, I guess I really don't." He sighed.

"And Orlando... how do you feel about him?" David said, asking this time, leaning back in his chair to look at Craig.

"Orlando?" Craig's head snapped up. "That little cunt. Him I know how I feel." Craig said with a snarl. "Little fucker."

_Uh huh._ "Craig, why don't you stay here tonight," David said, switching topics smoothly, standing up from the table and going to stand next to his friend. "Saves me having to drive you home, and you look exhausted. I'll even make you breakfast in the morning... pancakes or scrambled eggs..." he offered temptingly.

Craig smiled at David. "Thanks Dave, pancakes sound great."

"Pancakes it is. Now go to sleep, it's making me tired just looking at you," David ordered with a laugh, waving Craig towards the guest room.


	2. Chapter 2

Craig rolled over and grunted. He blinked his eyes open and looked around. _Huh?_ He thought until he remembered that he was in David's guest room. He stretched, feeling muscles creak and pull. He hadn't realized how damn tired that he had been. He sniffed and then smiled. Something smelled breakfasty. Getting up, he pulled on his jeans and started down the stairs.

David checked on the bacon, moving a cover back over the pan, keeping it warm, and started up a few fresh pancakes, hearing soft footfalls coming down the stairs. "Morning," he said, not turning around yet. "Go ahead and get yourself a drink... I can't leave the stove. Coffee's fresh too."

Craig smiled and moved to pour some juice and get coffee. He sat down at the counter and watched David for a minute. "Smells great. You need any help?"

"No way. Not after what you did to my kitchen last time," David teased, threatening with his spatula. "You stay out of trouble and out of my way."

Craig raised his hands in the air and sighed. "One small grease fire and you're marked for life." He laughed and took a sip of coffee. "Damn I needed that and the sleep. Thanks for letting me crash here. I'm not sure I could have made it home."

"Not a problem- glad to have you. And Craig, you destroyed my favorite saucepan, and we had to call for take out. That's no small fire," David reminded him. "And it wasn't small," he added in a mutter.

"I paid for the take out at least." Craig said, chuckling and ran his hands through his hair.

"And since when does takeout compare to sautéed sword fish?" David said, a bit indignantly.

"That you_have_ a sauce pan AND know how to make sautéed sword fish amazes the bloody hell out of me." Craig said and got up to pour more coffee. "This is great coffee. I haven't had a decent cup in weeks. That shite Viggo drinks." He trailed off and then looked up with a smile. "No matter."

"It's really not that hard... not that I have any intention of giving you another chance," David snorted, catching the look on Craig's face and deciding to change the subject. "Pancakes are ready- go ahead and sit down."

"Ah Dave, you know you'll forgive me anything." Craig fluttered his lashes at the red head and then laughed. "Okay okay, I'm sitting."

"Pretty much anything, yeah," David said quietly, facing the stove, then turned around, a bright grin on his face as he brought a plate of eggs, bacon and pancakes to the table. "There. When's the last time you had a decent meal, anyway?"

Craig grinned and picked up a fork. "Probably last time I was here. He took a bite of eggs, licked his lips and grinned. "Man, I could kiss you. This is great."

"Promises, promises. There's more where that came from. You're always too pale when you come back from traveling... what did you even eat at Viggo's?" David tutted, setting another batch of pancakes on the griddle.

"Nothing much, you know him." Craig said and stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth. "And I didn't feel like eating the day I was in Spain. It was bloody hot as hell there." He shoveled another bite of pancake into his mouth and made a happy sound.

"See, that's the secret to keeping you happy... feed you full of starch," David grinned, carrying the pan over and lifting two fresh pancakes onto his plate.

"And see, that's all I've wanted. A man that knows how to keep me happy. Is that too much to ask?" Craig said with a laugh. "Enough, damn I'm going to bust."

"Are you sure? I've got fresh fruit... melons, oranges..."

Craig laughed and stood up, leaning over the counter. He wrapped his arm around David's neck and pulled him close, kissing his forehead. "You're the best. Damn I love you." He stood up and finished his coffee. "But, I need to get home. I've got a pile of laundry and I need to - well - I guess decide what to do now." He chewed his lip a second and then smiled at David.

_Don't go._ "Yeah, you should go," David said, hugging him back briefly, then stepping back. "I'll cook for you, but I'm not doing your laundry... there are limits."

"See there's where I lose out, the damn limits." Craig picked his plate up and walked to the sink. "So at least let me wash up, kay? I'll try not to catch anything ablaze in the sink." He said and laughed.

"Oh no. Broken glass in the dishwater, trip to hospital, five stitches? Get out of my kitchen before I throw you out," David threatened, hands on his hips.

With a snort of laughter, Craig grabbed David and placed a loud kiss on his cheek. "You have an entirely too good of a memory. Don't you forget anything?" He asked as he was walking out of the kitchen.

"Not one single thing."


	3. Chapter 3

"The expiry date on salad dressing is not a suggestion, Craig. It's an expiry date. That means when it reaches the date on the bottle, you have to throw it out," David explained patiently.

"Oh for the love of - David, you have got to learn to live life as an adventure." Craig said wisely.

"No, Craig, I really don't," David's voice showed a hint of exasperation as he threw yet another carbon-dated bottle into the trash bag he'd pulled beside the opened fridge door. "Riding is an adventure. Traveling new places, starting a new shoot. Salmonella is not."

"Wait. That one I think I just bought." Craig frowned. "Or maybe not. Well, if you don't feel like walking on the wild side, best not open the vegetable drawer thing down at the bottom. Just saying." He said and held his hands up, finally laughing.

"Oh, god," David groaned, looking at the vegetable drawer and shuddering, grabbing a beer and slamming the door, as if he was afraid something would come after him. "I'm going to need at least one of those before I go back inside _that_."

"Chicken." Craig mumbled and opened the pantry and started moving things around. I know I had some salt crisps in here somewhere." He muttered.

"Chicken! You go exploring then- see if there's a petrol reserve in your fridge," David grumbled, twisting the top off the beer and gazing aimlessly at the papers hanging on Craig's fridge, his eyes narrowing suddenly as one caught his eye. "Craig? You're flying to Auckland?" he said, pointing at the itinerary.

"Hmm? " Craig said. "Here! I knew I had some." He stood up and opened the bag, sitting it on the counter. "What? Oh yeah. Thursday afternoon."

"That's in three days," David said, not turning around, trying to keep his voice neutral, fingers clenched tighter around his beer bottle. "Were you going to tell me you were going?"

"Yeah, I guess." Craig said and opened a beer. "I thought I'd go see Karl."

"Really?" David said, barely able to keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "I would have thought it would have been to see the Auckland Art Gallery Toi O Tamaki... you know they get over two hundred thousand visitors a year, and it has the largest and most comprehensive collection of New Zealand and international art in the country?"

"David, what are you on about?" Craig said, frowning.

"Nothing. Sorry, fumes from the fridge," David waved it off, taking a long pull off his beer. "It's been awhile since I've seen Karl... he must be glad you're coming for a visit." _Now lets see what are the odds..._

"I - well I haven't talked to him. Thought I'd drop in, see what's going on. Hang out for a while." He shrugged.

_Once again, the odds take it._ "Well, I'm sure he'll be glad for the surprise." David finished off his beer, opening the fridge and staring at the vegetable drawer. "Better not leave this if you're going to be going away again. It'll take over while you're gone."

Craig walked to David and put his arms around him and gave him a hug. "Once again, you're the best Dave."

"Yeah. I'm the best." The bitterness in David's voice was eclipsed by disgust as he slid open the drawer. "CRAIG! I don't even know what vegetables this started out as except to say GREEN!"


	4. Chapter 4

"...and this Reisling for dessert. Figure it'd go with anything. Orlando got me started on Reslings. I think he just liked them because they were fruity." Craig laughed and handed David the bottle.

David looked consideringly at the wine, and then nodded. "You're getting a little better at this, Craig. So long as I only let you shop, fetch and carry, we do all right."

"Everyone has to be good at something." Craig said with a laugh. "So what'd you cook? Smells great."

"Sourdough bread, grilled salmon, pasta salad. And if you even try and put vegemite on the bread, I will hurt you. There is a time and a place."

"One time, again, just the one time." Craig mumbled, grinning.

"The times you've tried to do it and I've caught you count."

Craig smiled. "I appreciate you having me for dinner tonight. You know how much I love salmon. Orlando hated salmon, liked redfish though."

"I know. And it's no problem, I'm just sorry we didn't see much of each other this time," David said, slicing the bread, trying not to grip the handle too tightly.

"Maybe we can get together when I get back? You'll be around, right?"

"I always am, aren't I?" David turned around, hoping his smile didn't look forced, then went back to the bread.

"Yeah you're dependable that way, always have been." Craig said. "You were never late or skived off a date. You weren't like Orlando. That little fucker was always late."

"Mmm hmm." David put down the knife, filling the basket with bread and carrying it to the table. "Want me to open the wine?"

"No I got it. I got used to opening wine in New Zealand." Craig said and looked around. "You got a cork screw?"

"Top drawer, left. Try and open it without doing something that will land yourself in hospital?"

"Uh huh." Craig said and lifted his eyebrow, grinning. "You don't have a lot of faith in my ability to watch out for myself, do you?"

"Nope," David grinned back, fetching glasses for both of them.

Craig moved to sit down, a flicker crossing his face. "Maybe I should let you be my mum." He snorted out a laugh. "You could warn me off the men I seem to attract."

David rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly what I want to be... your mum. My lifelong ambition. Now eat up before it gets cold, you're skin and bones."

"Yes mum." Craig said and laughed and dug into the meal.

***

"What part of the whole 'you aren't allowed to do dishes in my house' thing aren't you understanding," David teased, taking the plate out of Craig's hand. "You can make the coffee."

"Oh coffee you trust me with, huh?" Craig asked, bumping David's shoulder. "Remember that crap coffee mocha ice stuff that Orlando used to drink. God that was bad." He said with a laugh.

"Coffee I trust you with. Partly because I'm going to have tea," he added, plugging in the kettle with a smirk.

"Cream?" Craig asked.

"Second shelf, behind the margarine."

Craig stuck his head in the refrigerator and came out with the container. "Why don't you get the good stuff? This is nasty. Even Orlando wouldn't drink this." Craig looked at David and grinned.

"Because I don't drink it, so I get the canned stuff. It lasts longer. Can't you let it go, Craig? It was a long time ago." David sighed.

Craig looked at the red head, head cocked and frowning. "What are you talking about? Let what go?"

"Orlando. You've mentioned him in some way or another thirteen... no, fourteen times since you got here tonight. Just..." David shrugged. "Just let it go."

Craig tightened his jaw and sat the cream down on the counter. "Orlando - I -" He rubbed his forehead. "Don't you - I-" He stared at David. "That little bastard, this is his fault."

"Which this, Craig?" David sounded tired. "Viggo? Marton? Maybe Harry? The past five years of your life that you've wasted being angry with him for something that wasn't even entirely his fault?"

"Wasn't his fault? David he screwed around on me, hell on _you_ too. He hurt us. God, I hate him." Craig pushed away from the counter. "I need to go, I've got my flight tomorrow. Thanks for the dinner. It was great as always."

"Fucking Karl isn't going to get you Orlando."

Craig blinked and then stared at David. "I beg your pardon."

David looked down, taking a deep breath, then looked at Craig again. "I said that fucking Karl isn't going to get you Orlando. Just like fucking Viggo didn't, going after Marton didn't, Harry, god knows who else. It's not going to change anything. I don't know why you can't let this go, but you need to."

"I am not trying to _get_ Orlando." Craig said, voice raised. "I have let it go. I am completely over what he did to me. How he treated me. I - you know - fuck you David. This is not about Orlando. This is about how he treated us."

David's eyes flared. "Get out."

"What?"

"Get out. Fuck me? Fuck you, Craig. And leave me out of your little vendetta you've got going here. I never asked you for that- I never wanted that. And I'm tired of waiting around hoping that you'll stop hurting people, stop hurting yourself, and stop hurting me. Get the fuck out of my house."

Craig shook his head, eyes wide. "What the hell David? How have I ever hurt you? I tried to help when Orlando dumped you. I've always come back here to you. What the hell?"

"He didn't dump me, Craig- god! We had sex a couple of times, and he moved on. And it didn't exactly stop you from fucking him, did it? It was a film set, Craig- it happens. And yes, I was pissed, but I got over it a hell of a long time ago, because it wasn't like he ever lied to me. This isn't a fifties movie, we weren't going steady... it was a goddamned film set. And I should have told you to grow up a long time ago."

"Maybe I should just go." Craig said and started toward the front door. "I'll call you when I get back."

"Don't bother. I'm done. Have a nice life, Craig," David said, looking at him one more time and walking out of the room and upstairs.

Craig almost stumbled, mouth agape. Finally he turned and slammed out of the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Craig stood on the porch, watching the cab pull away. He push the strap of the bag further up on his shoulder and raised his hand, knocking. He placed a smile on his face and waited for the door to be answered.

Karl dried his hands quickly as he walked down the hall, draping the dishtowel over his shoulder and pulling the door open. "Jesus- Parker? What the hell are you doing here? C'mon in!" Karl said, eyes wide in surprise.

Craig smiled at the dark eyed man. "Hey Karl, god you look great." He followed the other man into the house.

"You too... can I get you something? Beer... something else? Feel free to just go through the fridge and see if something takes your fancy," Karl said, leading them to the kitchen and letting the water out of the sink.

"How have you been? Damn, it's been forever." Craig said with a smile. "Sure beer sounds great."

"Yeah, at least. Last I heard you were in... LA maybe?" Karl mused, grabbing a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge and passing one over to Craig. "Decide it was time to come home?"

"Thanks." Craig said, opening the beer and taking a sip. "Mmm. Yeah, I was just there visiting, for a while. Came back. Then you know decided it was time to come see you." He smiled at the man.

"Yeah, but you didn't come all the way here just to see me," Karl laughed, tipping his beer back. "You shooting something in the area?"

Craig grinned, the smile crooked. "No nothing. I've just thought about you a lot lately. Thought about a lot of things, decided it was time to come see you." He shrugged.

"Oh." Karl blinked, a bit surprised, but recovered quickly. "You already have a hotel in the area, or do you want to stay here- I've got the space if you'd like," he offered.

"I was hoping you'd offer." Craig said. "So, let me take you to dinner? Someplace nice, quiet."

"Sure, I haven't got any plans," Karl agreed with a shrug. "And if it's on you, all the better. There's a steakhouse down the road, within walking distance actually. That sound all right?"

Craig nodded. "Perfect. We can talk, have a steak." He smiled.

The waitress sat the Decadent Triple Fudge Cake in front of Karl, smiling at him before handing Craig his cheesecake. She smiled once more and walked off. Craig watched her go and then grinned at Karl. "Still have a way with - well pretty much everyone - huh Karl?" He winked at the man.

Karl laughed, trying to give Craig a kick under the table. "She's a sweet girl... going back to school to get her degree in... engineering, I think. I eat here a lot," he explained, taking a forkful of icing off the side of the cake and eating that before starting in on the actual cake.

"Uh huh." Craig said, smiling. He swiped his finger through the strawberry sauce on his dessert and held it out toward Karl. "Taste?" He said and cocked his head.

"No thanks," Karl shook his head, pointing his fork at his cake. "I don't like mixing flavors- even chocolate and strawberry." _What the fuck... he did not just try to get me to lick strawberry sauce off his finger... did he?_

"Mmm, too bad." Craig pulled his hand back and sucked the finger into his mouth, making a blurry noise in his throat. "Nice. Strawberry, it's good on just about anything." He said in a slow soft voice, smiling.

Karl frowned. "So... how's David?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"David?" Craig asked frowning. "Fine, I guess. Pissed at me the last time I saw him, but you know." He shrugged and cut a bite of cheesecake, placing it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

"That's too bad. Well, I'm sure you two will work it out. I'm just glad you ended up together," Karl said, leaning forward and patting Craig on the arm.

"Together? Huh?" Craig said, a quizzical look on his face. "Who?"

"You and David... you are together, aren't you?" Karl looked suddenly uncertain.

"No, we - uh - we're friends. Me - and David." Craig frowned and then a smile broke across his face. "No baby, I'm completely unattached." He spread his hands out. "There's no one waiting for me, I'm all yours."

"Craig... I haven't seen you for what- a few years at least, and you show up on my door and take me for dinner and tell me that you're mine? I mean... I know I'm a guy and everything, but..." Karl frowned again, scrambling for words. "I mean, I've never thought about you like that. And I really did think you were with David."

"Well think about it." Craig said and reached, lightly brushing his knuckles across Karl's hand. "C'mon Karl. We can do this. We should have done this. Way back during Rings. We should have told Orlando to go to hell and you and I should have hooked up."

"Orlando? What does he have to do with anything?" Karl asked, shifting his hand just back out of the way, this whole conversation feeling very surreal.

"He was a bastard and - never mind. Listen, Karl," Craig sat up, leaning forward. "We can be great together. Better than it was back then."

"Craig... why did you come here?"

"I came here for you."

"Why? I mean, really- why? We've never had a thing, we're not even that close... and you're here for me? You're going to have to explain a bit better'n that, Craig, because this is pretty strange," Karl admitted.

"Karl, listen. Okay, just listen. Orlando fucked Marton over because of you. He fucked everybody over. You deserve better." Craig said adamantly.

"What in the name of fuck are you talking about?" Karl said, pushing his plate away and looking at Craig. "What the hell is your problem with Orlando anyway? I deserve better? I'm not with Orlando- I haven't been for a long bloody time!"

"Karl. This isn't about Orlando. It's about us." Craig said frowning. "C'mon. Why not?"

"Why not? For one thing, there is no us. There has never been an us - we're hardly even close friends," Karl said, leaning closer to Craig, his words coming out as a hiss. "And for another, you've yet to come up with a single convincing argument why we should beyond the fact that I deserve better than Orlando. Whatever it is your problem with Orlando is, Craig- fucking me isn't going to fix it."

"I don't have a problem with bloody fucking bastard Orlando." Craig said, his jaw clenched. "Fuck, you sound like Marton." He muttered.

"So, both Marton and I think you have a problem with 'bloody fucking bastard Orlando'?" Karl said, raising an eyebrow. "That's pretty interesting, don't you think?"

"I think it's interesting that I was there to pick up the pieces and try to help Marton when he saw Orlando use the same worn out damn move on you that he used on every other bloody person on set." Craig said, voice hard. "Now Orlando is back trying to convince Marton that he loves him, and - fuck - just bloody fuck." Craig said and looked to the side.

"When you saw us where?" Karl managed to look confused and pissed off at the same time.

"At the club. That first night that Orlando gave you the _music moving through your blood, better than any high_ bullshit. The first night you two fucked." Craig snarled out.

"Why the _fuck_ were you spying on us? What business is it of yours anyway whether we fucked or when we fucked or any of it?" Karl shot back, pushing his chair back with a loud scraping sound as he stood, tossing money from his wallet onto the table and heading for the door, managing a polite smile at the waitress as he headed out.

Craig watched Karl leave and blinked. He got up and followed, catching up with Karl on the road. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. "Karl. I - I'm sorry."

"You really crossed a line back there," Karl said, still pissed. "You can't think you can just walk into someone's life out of nowhere, insult their friends and think that's going to charm them into bed. I mean, does this actually work?"

"I didn't insult your friends." Craig said petulantly.

"Well, yeah, you kinda did, since the bloody fucking bastard happens to be one of mine," Karl pointed out.

Craig was quiet as they walked, finally speaking. "I think I need to get my bag and go. I'll call a cab."

"I'm not gonna kick you out," Karl sighed. "If you want to stay, that's up to you. But I can't give you whatever it is you came here looking for. And I think you need to think seriously about dealing with some of the shite in your head. But it's none of my business."

"No, thanks though. I need to go. I just need to go home. Thanks though." Craig said quietly.

Karl nodded, walking the rest of the way home in silence, and then waiting out on the front porch while Craig gathered his things and called a cab. "Take care of yourself, Craig. I do mean that," he said, hesitating a moment before pulling the other man into a hug. "And tell David I said hello when you see him next."

"Yeah I will. Thanks Karl. I'll - yeah - I'll see you around." Craig said a walked to the cab when it arrived. He turned and waved.

Karl waved, watching as Craig disappeared around the corner, then walked back into the house, shaking his head. "That was really strange," he murmured, checking a phone number from the page tacked to the wall before starting to dial, dropping into the kitchen chair as he heard the call connect. "Hello- Viggo? It's Karl."


	6. Chapter 6

Craig paced. He took a drink from the bottle of beer, grimacing at the flat warm liquid and sat it down. _Karl was full of shite._ Craig paced some more and took another sip of the tepid beer. "Damn." He said and wiped his mouth. He walked to the sink to pour out the beer when the ringing of his phone distracted him.

"Yeah, hello." He answered.

"Hey. How was Auckland?"

"Viggo." Craig said and sat down. "'Bout as good as Spain." He said in a mumble.

"Sounds like," Viggo said, kicking his legs over the arm of the chair and leaning back. "As good as LA too?"

"I should issue maps. It could be the Rings version of Where's Waldo? Except we could call it where's Craig going to fuck up next?"

"You're a good looking guy, Craig. But self-pity is attractive on no one."

"Yeah, well something else I need to learn, yeah?"

"I suppose so. I could get all preachy and tell you that apologies are a lot more useful than self-pity... but that only works if you're actually sorry," Viggo said, taking a pull off of the beer in his hand.

"Wow, let me check my calendar. I didn't realize it was international call your ex-lover and mock him day." Craig made a hard sound in his throat.

"I didn't call you to mock you. Pretty sure it hasn't turned up in my tone either. If it came across that way, I'm sorry. I called to ask if you wanted to talk."

Craig leaned his head back. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

Viggo paused for a moment waiting for the apology that he thought might follow the one he'd gave Craig, then went on, managing not to sigh. _He's not there yet. Maybe sometime, but not yet._ "So... you know I'm not mocking you now. You want to talk, you've got my attention."

"I went to visit Karl. He was - less than enthusiastic - about the visit." Craig said softly and huffed out a laugh.

"You and Karl aren't that close, are you?" Viggo said, keeping his voice as impartial as he could.

Craig laughed, a harsh sound. "No."

"Then why?"

"It - he," Craig was quiet for a minute. "I don't really know. It seemed like it was a good idea. I've had better ones."

"You didn't sleep with him before?"

"No, I didn't."

"And then, all of a sudden..." Viggo trailed off.

"And then all of a sudden I decide to seduce..." Craig swallowed. "What the hell's wrong with me Viggo?" He said and chuckled darkly.

"Don't know. Is that why you went to see Karl?" Viggo wriggled in the chair, reaching for his drink again.

"I hate that it was Karl that Orlando broke Marton's heart with. Fucking Karl of all people."

"Marton's heart is doing just fine, at the present. But if it was such a concern for you, then why were you going off to fuck Karl? I mean if it was such a big deal that Orlando fucked him then, how is it better if you're fucking Karl now- in terms of how Marton feels anyway?"

"I don't know!" Craig snapped out. "Fuck Viggo, I don't know."

"Well, what were you thinking when you did it? How did you decide to go anyway- just up and headed for the airport?" Viggo continued, unperturbed by Craig's outburst.

"Yeah basically. It seemed like such a good idea."

"But why, Craig. Try and sort out why."

Craig chewed on his fingernail, phone against his ear held tight in the other hand. "How was it so easy for Orlando? How did we all just fall in bed with him?"

Viggo frowned, thinking about the question. "He just... is. But I think we all reacted to him differently. He and I just hit it off, but I knew it was never going to be anything more than that."

"He is so goddamned alive. I knew it wasn't - well - I thought I knew. The funny thing is, I'm not sure if I wanted Orlando or wanted what Orlando had. How bloody pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic, Craig. But I don't think what you're doing is doing you any good. Whichever way it is. It's not good for you, and if you're not careful, it's going to cost you your friends," Viggo said softly.

"Has it cost me you?" Craig asked.

"If it had, I wouldn't be sitting inside talking to you instead of walking around out in the sunshine, would I?" Viggo said wryly.

Craig chuckled, his tone a little lighter. "Guess not. So let's see, counting you - that's one. Oh and David. Poor bastard even made me pancakes, said I looked like shite when I got back from visiting you."

"Not much of a statement on my hospitality, is it," Viggo said, grinning. "How is David?"

Craig laughed. "He's great. Complaining about my cooking and cleaning out my refrigerator. The usual."

"He cleaned out your refrigerator? Wow. I didn't know David was a masochist," Viggo said, deadpan.

"I think he just likes to bust my balls."

"Still, you wouldn't catch me cleaning my own fridge, let alone one you've been near," Viggo added, furrowing his brow a little. "Just out of the goodness of his heart, huh?"

Craig shrugged against the phone. "David's always been a good guy."

"He is and he cooks for you?"

"Did you know that David can cook? He made sautéed swordfish. Well he tried." Craig laughed. "There was an incident with a sauté pan and a small fire. He hasn't forgiven me completely. And he made this like fruit pie with clotted cream. Man." Craig said with a sigh.

"Sounds like you're pretty spoiled. He have you doing yard work or something to balance it out?"

"Nah. Well, I helped him last year when he re-did the back deck. I brought the beer." Craig said with a fond smile. "David's all right."

"He is a good guy," Viggo murmured, his thoughts turning over on themselves. "I never hooked up with David in New Zealand. So you're up one on me there."

"Nope, still even." Craig said. "David and I never got together, just friends."

"Oh." Viggo paused for a moment, surprised. "My mistake then. Sorry."

"Yeah it just never was our time, I guess, huh." Craig said, brow furrowed a bit.

"Well, you're probably better friends for it then, I suppose," Viggo shrugged.

"Yeah maybe so. You never - you know - with David?"

"I wasn't really around David very much. But no- I didn't," Viggo shook his head, even though Craig couldn't see the gesture.

"Hmm. Oh well." Craig said dismissively. "Thanks Viggo, for still being a friend and I'm sorry for running off the way I did, for acting like a bloody bastard."

"You were a bastard. But I think there's hope for you yet. And I have a feeling that you aren't really interested in Marton. Or Orlando, as a matter of fact."

"Can a Church of England man become a nun, you think? That might solve my problems." Craig said laughing. "Vow of chastity and all."

"Black really isn't your color, mate," Viggo said, managing to keep his voice serious before laughing as well. "But no- my point was, in this whole conversation, you've not really asked me about either of them. Which leads me towards thinking you're not all that interested after all."

"Or maybe I'm just that selfish and self involved?" Craig said with a laugh.

"Either way, it doesn't speak much of undying passion for either of them."

Craig sighed, "I guess it really doesn't, does it? So you still available?" He said and laughed.

Viggo rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head even though Craig couldn't see the gesture. "Why Parker, you sweep me off my feet," he drawled, taking another pull off his drink.

"It wasn't my charm you were attracted to Mortensen, let's just be honest here." Craig said with a smile, feeling better.

"True enough. So- you feeling a little bit less sorry for yourself?"

"Yeah, thanks mate." Craig said and then added, "I really do owe you an apology. I was a bastard the way I left. I'm sorry."

"You do. And you were. And I accept. Keep from doing it again, and we're fine." Viggo said.

"Shite, I'll try." Craig snorted out. "Damn, I'm just going to stay away from men. You're all bad news."

"Yep. Wicked beasts us," Viggo agreed, grinning harder as he heard the sound of someone fiddling with the door. "About time- shooting must have run late today," he muttered, getting up out of the chair. "Good luck with that celibacy thing, Craig- and feel free to call me any time now. Especially since I've just proved that the cell works even here in Spain."

"Spain? Viggo, what the fuck're you doing in Spain?" Craig asked, eyes narrowing.

"Well, in about five minutes, Jeremy Irons," Viggo quipped. "Love you, Craig- bye for now!" Viggo said, turning the phone off and tossing it onto the side table.

"What? Huh? Buh?" Craig sputtered, staring at the phone.

"Who was that?" Jeremy asked, grinning as he closed the door behind him and walked towards Viggo.

"Tell you later," Viggo said, grinning wickedly.


	7. Chapter 7

Viggo arched up, unable to keep a groan from spilling out between his gritted teeth, his body taut and tense as he pulled against the restraints holding his arms in place above his head. He sagged against the bed again, panting for air, the look in his eyes approaching desperation as he made eye contact. "Please?" he gasped, all pretenses at not begging long gone.

"What? I'm sorry, but you will have to be more specific." He reached and dragged his nails across the crease of Viggo's thigh; thumb flicking the drawn tight balls. He twisted the other hand, burying the two fingers deeper, scrubbing across the bundle of nerves with the rough tip of his forefinger.

"NGGGH!" Viggo lifted up again, tightening around the fingers pressing inside him. "Fuck me! Please, fuck me - God!" he cried, tossing his head against the pillows, spreading himself even wider.

"You really are lovely." He said adding a third finger and scissoring them before pulling out and turning to pick up the condoms. Standing up he watched as Viggo writhed on the bed. He leaned over and bit Viggo's hip, licking across the mark.

Making quick work of rolling on the condom and slicking his erection, he knelt on the bed and pushed Viggo's legs forward. "Are you ready?" He asked, smile almost feral.

Viggo nodded violently, his hips pulsing gently, hardly noticing the soft moans of anticipation and complete _need_ that were coming from him.

He pushed Viggo's knees back, shifting forward until he was nudged against the puckered ring. He leaned up, feeling the stretch as he entered the man. He hesitated and then slammed forward, sinking in, fingers tightening in the tender flesh of Viggo's thigh.

Unable to hold back a sharp cry at the push in, Viggo thrust up as much as he could, loving the feeling of being held in place, controlled, hell, just being fucking - _taken_.

He had listened to the sounds of Viggo pleading for release and had refused to touch the man's straining cock. Instead, he had continued to thrust and move. Taking them both almost to the edge time and again. In a lust course voice, breath ragged, he growled out, "Viggo, tell me - tell me you want to come." He gasped out himself as he slammed into the man.

"Yes- god! Need to, please!" Viggo begged, his cock hard and leaking, the low growl almost sending him over, holding on by a thread,

Leaning up he gripped Viggo's cock, stroking fast and hard. In a gravelly voice he commanded. "Now Viggo, come with me now." Tightening, holding he felt the crash of orgasm as he rode the man under him. "Now!"

Viggo's mouth opened in a silent scream, thrusting up hard into his hand, a cry finally breaking free as Viggo came, pulling hard at his restraints, lifting them both off the bed a moment before collapsing against it for the last time, shuddering as the aftershocks rolled through him. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, voice hoarse.

Straining up, muscles tense he rode out the sensations, finally relaxing, breath coming in gulps. Gently he pulled out and disposed of the condom before moving to release the cuffs, rubbing at the tender flesh of Viggo's wrists and kissing the reddened flesh. He chuckled as he pulled the lean body to him. "I believe my dear Viggo, fucking you was what I was doing, yes?"

"Well, yes, it might have been stating the obvious," Viggo agreed, collapsing closer and raising his shoulder to wipe his sweat dampened hair out of his eyes, still breathing heavily. "But I wasn't exactly working with a full brain right then, was I?"

He chuckled, a deep rumble and pushed Viggo's sweaty hair back with a strong tanned hand. "Mmm, that was very nice."

"Mmm. And just think... not two weeks ago I was insisting that I'd not be coming to Spain just because Orlando asked me to. Sometimes it's nice being wrong, isn't it?" Viggo smirked, tilting his head up and nipping gently at Jeremy's lower lip.

Jeremy laughed. "Yes, I'm quite please that the little diva pup got you to come here. Must remember to send him a nice bottle of scotch. Or some of that swill that he drinks as a thank you."

"Save the scotch, send him the swill," Viggo advised, smirking again. "Did I ever tell you I caught him once about to pour coke into a glass of Glenfiddich?"


	8. Chapter 8

Craig walked up on David's porch. He'd been back in town for a few days and hadn't made an effort to contact his red headed friend. He missed him - and his cooking. It looked to be a shite day, the clouds were low and black and the news had been talking about heavy rains by the afternoon, Craig didn't want to be stuck at home watching it pour down.

He knocked lightly once and without waiting, turned up the gnome flowerpot and pulled the spare key out from underneath. Opening the door he walked into the house. "Dave." He called and started toward the kitchen, seeing the back door standing open he walked out onto the porch, spotting David moving a lawn chair toward the house. "Hey mate!" Craig called.

David jumped at the sound, dropping the lawn chair on his foot, cursing angrily and glaring at Craig. "Did you just come through the house?" he demanded, leaning down and snatching up the chair, carrying it under the cover of the porch.

Craig blinked and grinned at the man. 'Yes, but I didn't track in anything." He said brightly.

"Who gave you the right to just walk right through whenever you bloody well feel like it?" David vented, Craig's tone annoying the hell out of him. Especially since he'd dared to come back from going off to fuck Karl for however long it had been, and forgotten that David was fucking pissed off at him.

"What? You're the daft bastard that showed me where the spare key was." Craig said, a slight frown on his face. "What's the matter? D'you need help bringing anything in?"

"I didn't show you so you could come waltzing into my house whenever you-" David gave up, letting out a frustrated huff. "No, I don't need any help. I'm fine all on my own."

Craig studied his friend for a second before walking out from under the porch and looking up at the sky. "Looks like it's going to rain, good afternoon for take away. Want me to order some curry? I'll go pick it up?"

"Did it even occur to you to give me a call before you just dropped on by? To think that I might have had plans, or someone over?"

"Do you?"

"That's not the point."

Craig waved his hand, frowning. "Fucking hell David, what's up your arse today?"

"Do you have any sense of long term memory whatsoever?" David exploded. "Do you not remember you and me fighting right before you went off to tart around after Karl, and me kicking you out of my house?"

"It was a fight." Craig said. "You said some things, I said some things. What the hell? Wait." He said, eyes suddenly wide. "Tart around after Karl?"

David shrugged, taking down a beach umbrella and tossing it under the covered deck. "I'm sorry, is there another term you'd prefer I used?" he said, not caring at all that he was being a prick.

"Is this about Karl? Jesus David, I didn't even fuck him."

David raised an eyebrow, knowing damned well that it likely wasn't by Craig's choice.

"What?" Craig asked. "What are you on about? So, we fought. I'm back. What?"

"And I'm tired, Craig. And I'm not your wife or your mommy, so just toddle off somewhere else to get somebody to take care of you and listen to you bitch about the demon Orlando and whatever else, because I'm done." David tossed the last thing under the deck, and went to walk past Craig. "You showed yourself in, I'm pretty sure you can show yourself out."

"No." Craig said and grabbed David's arm. "I want to talk about this shite."

David stared at Craig's hand, then looked at Craig. "Let go of me."

Craig returned the look and then smiled. "C'mon mate. Let me buy you a nice curry."

"I'm not playing around, Craig. Do you think this is a joke? I don't want to deal with any of your crap anymore- it's too hard. Let me go."

Craig frowned. "We've always been friends. What the hell is too hard?"

"Could you get your head out of your arse for _once_? Why did you go to see Karl, Craig?" David demanded.

"It had been a while since I'd seen him and -" Craig pulled his bottom lip through his teeth. "God! This has nothing to do with Karl! He thought you and I were together. He kept asking about you!"

David blinked, surprised at Craig's report of Karl's comment, and then shook his head. "Don't change the subject. Why'd you go to Karl, Craig? How about Harry, Dominic, Viggo? Marton? Anyone that there's a remote chance that Orlando fucked?"

"So." Craig said stubbornly, lifting his chin. "Orlando fucked everybody, sooner or later I was going to end up fucking somebody that Orlando did."

"Don't. Just don't," David shook his head, getting more and more frustrated. "Don't think you can fool me, Craig. I've watched you at this since Rings. Don't think you can lie to me and have it work. You and Karl were never close- you've never been close. Tell me why you went to Auckland!"

"I went to Auckland to fuck Karl. Okay? You satisfied. He said no. Told me to come home. I did."

"Add the other part, Craig- add the why," David watched Craig, his hands on his hips.

"You think it's because of Orlando, don't you? That this is all some kind of scorecard I'm using to compete with that little fucker Orlando, right?"

"Of course it's about Orlando! Everything you've done since Rings has been all about Orlando!"

"Dammit David! You don't know. Everybody fell all over themselves for him."

"And everyone else except you has gotten over it. Including me. It was a fucking movie set, Craig, and you're old enough to know better. So either you're carrying a massive grudge around because you can't handle that some kid moved on past you, or you're in love with him. Either way, like I said- I'm done."

"C'mon David." Craig said with a sudden smile. "You know you'll forgive me. This is just a bump, yeah?" He grinned and ran his hand down David's arm. "I don't want to talk about this shite anymore. I'm sorry if I made you mad. Curry?"

David opened his mouth to snap at Craig again, then stared at him, disbelieving, looking at Craig's hand moving over his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Haven't you ever wondered? What it would be like, you and I?"

David stared at Craig again and let out a snort of laughter. "Oh, I can't _believe_ you. This is how we're going to solve this, is it?"

"What's to solve? C'mon David, you know that you don't want to be mad at me. You want to forgive me for being a bastard. We've been together too long to stay mad."  
"I know that I want to take that curry you keep suggesting and shove it up your arse," David snapped back.'

"Ohh kinky." Craig teased and then looked at David closely, smile slipping. "You're actually mad? What the fuck David?"

"We've been together, friends, whatever, this long, and I'm pretty sure you don't know hardly anything about me. And why is that? Because it's always about you- it always has been. And I don't know if you think you're imitating Orlando or what with your whole 'I can be adorable and sexy and everyone will let me fuck them and forgive me', but it's not working here."

 

Craig squinted, head cocked. "What David, I'm not good enough. Tell me you don't want this." He stepped forward, feeling the damp heat and humidity in the air hang between them. A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and Craig reached a finger and ran it over David's lip. "Hmm?"

"I don't want this," David's voice grew rough, wishing it was entirely true, hating himself for leaning a little into the touch before pulling back. "And you're not good enough."

"You're a better actor then you are liar." Craig said voice a bit rough. Another deep rumble of thunder rolled in the sky. He took one more step, standing against David, thigh a hard warmth at David's groin.

"Back off, Craig. I'm warning you," David said, his voice hoarse. "You don't want this. You don't want me, and I know it."

Craig lowered his hand and pressed long fingers around the thick bulge in David's trousers. He squeezed lightly, smiling. "But you want me. And I do want you."

David grabbed Craig's hand and pulled it away, holding him tightly by the wrist and shoving him backwards up against the wall of the house, smirking at the sound as Craig hit the wall. "Don't fuck with me, Craig," he growled.

"Why David?" Craig said, but he blinked as he caught his breath, straightening back up. "Why? Huh? What're you going to do? Huh?" Craig poked a finger at David, bored with this already.

"Just shut _up_ already!" David pressed up against Craig, kissing him hard, if nothing else, to get him to be quiet.

Craig was surprised by the kiss, but moved into it, tightening his fingers into David's shirt and pulling on him. He lifted his foot and rubbed it across the back of David's calf, smiling into the kiss. _Easy._ He thought.

David caught Craig's other wrist, pulling them both up above Craig's head and pinning them there, deepening the kiss, taking control, a low growl sounding from deep inside him.

Craig moaned, rubbing himself against David. Thunder rumbled across the sky and a few drops of rain hit the top of the patio. Craig shifted, pushing at David's hands to see what he'd do, he smiled into the kiss.  
David's grip increased, slamming Craig's hands back against the wall. _Warned you. Not your show anymore._ He pulled back from the kiss, nipping almost painfully at Craig's lower lip, then kissing him again, hungrily.

Craig grunted, a frown forming on his brow, but he opened wider, head tilting as he let David kiss him. He lifted his knee, pushing it between David's legs, rubbing into him.

David shifted, hooking his foot around Craig's and kicking it to the side, holding him up as he unbalanced, having to put his foot back on the ground. "Wider," he growled, breaking off from the kiss for a moment, thrusting hard up against Craig, his foot tapping at Craig's.

Craig complied, something in him drawing tight at the tone of David's voice. He spread his feet, pressing his own hands up over his head, hard against the wall. He looked at David with hooded eyes. "Yes."

David moved one hand away, still gripping Craig's wrists tightly with the other, completely ignoring the changes in weather, not noticing the rain picking up around them. He thought briefly about removing Craig's shirt, but decided not to bother, going straight for the buttons of his jeans, undoing them quickly and pressing his hand against Craig's cock, a smirk on his face at the look on Craig's face.

Craig groaned and pushed against David's hand. "Yeah." He licked his lips and leaned toward David.

David smirked again, moving his hand away and checking Craig's pockets. "Lube and condoms... somehow I knew those would be there," he snorted, releasing Craig's hands a moment and spinning him around so he was facing the wall.

"Yeah well, Orlando taught me to always be prepared." Craig said, widening his stance and pushing his palms flat against the wall, arching his back.

David's eyes flashed, teeth baring. _Orlando. Always Orlando. He's never going to let it go, David. Here you are, about to fuck the hell out of him in the backyard of your place, in a rainstorm, and that's all he can think of. How long you going to put yourself through this?_ He snarled, partly at Craig, and partly at himself, letting go of Craig's hands and shoving at him, turning around and walking for the house.

"What the fuck David? Have you lost your mind? I want you. Where the hell are you going?" Craig said in shock and reaching out, grabbed David's arm.

David threw his arm off, spinning around and punching Craig in the face, watching unsympathetically as he tumbled to the ground, hissing from the pain in his hand. "You don't want me- you want him. You've always wanted him. And I'll be damned if I'm going to be his stand in. Get out, and leave me alone."

"You hit me, you bastard!" Craig finally said.

"Yeah, I did. Feel free to never speak to me again over it. And I'll stay away from you for being an ignorant, self-absorbed, can't-get-over-himself bastard. Goodbye, Craig. We're done." David took one more look at him, then turned around and walked into the house, the stray tears running down his cheeks camouflaged by the rain. _Goodbye, love. Goodbye._


End file.
